


Paper Umbrellas (And Sugar-Rimmed Glass)

by purajobot935



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartenders, Broken Families, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Durin Family, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Oblivious, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Slow Build, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 13:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purajobot935/pseuds/purajobot935
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How to make a Cupid's Arrow... <br/>Add one part each of the following: A young lad with sad dark eyes; a golden prince with eyes the color of summer sky.<br/>Mix in: two parts family secrets; two parts obliviousness; two parts broken families.<br/>Shake firmly with: heartache, hurt feelings, stubbornness, misunderstandings and tears.<br/>Pour into a tall glass of love.<br/>Add a dash of hope and trust; garnish with a sprig of happiness, and of course, a paper umbrella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Testing

**Author's Note:**

> Story takes place in a modern city/town setting. As no exact geographic location is specified, this place will probably contain a little bit of everything, if I can use it as a convenient plot device.   
> Where I live, 18 is the legal age to drink, buy, serve and sell alcohol, so I am sticking with that since it suits my purpose of Kili's age at the start of the story.  
> Rating remains a T for now, but may go up to an M as the story progresses and relationships develops. I have no other pairings in mind at the moment aside from Kili/Legolas, but we'll see what happens. Nothing is set in stone yet.  
> Enjoy the ride!
> 
> All recognized characters belong to J. R. R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson and whoever else owns the legal rights to them, and no profit is made off of this work.

**Spring – Late March**

“So, you want to work at my club?”

The voice caught him by surprise, and for his part Kíli only just managed not to startle when it sounded behind him. He sat up straighter when the tall man with the long, straight, ash-blond hair came around and took a seat across the large desk from him.

“I do,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady and not fidget under the man’s keen stare that made him feel just the slightest bit small and uncomfortable. It was almost like he was looking into one’s soul.

“Tell me why I should employ you.” The man glanced through the single sheet of paper that made up Kíli’s rather slim résumé. “By the looks of it, you don’t really have much experience in this field of work, or any other for that matter, Kíli…?”

“Just ‘Kíli’,” he replied. “I don’t believe in last names.”

“And why is that?”

“I’d rather not say, Sir, with all due respect.” Kíli swallowed to ease the tightness in his throat. “I’m just not comfortable with one.”

The older man – Thranduil Oropherion, exotic name if there ever was one, Kíli thought, and quite the mouthful – tilted his head looking mildly curious. “Does your family have something to hide?”

Kíli forced himself not to frown lest he be considered possibly ruder than he was already being. “My family will not affect my ability to do this job, Sir. I have no wish to be judged for them.” He met the man’s unwavering gaze stubbornly and wondered if that was amusement he saw on his face. He didn’t quite fancy being laughed at if that was the case.

Thankfully, the other looked back down at his résumé, though still with a tiny smirk on his lips. “It says you just graduated high school, but you’re 19 years old right now.”

“I was held back a year. Family issues.” 

“You make it sound like you have a rather interesting family.”

Kíli fished around in his backpack and pulled out two sheets of paper, each one with a hand-written message. “If you were wondering about my identity, these are letters of reference from two of my high-school teachers.” He passed them over the desk.

Thranduil skimmed through them like he had the résumé. “An Archery and Gymnastics instructor and a Chemistry teacher. They appear to think you competent with practical work.” He paused, but when Kíli made no reply, he continued. “It still leaves us with the issue of your lack of experience.”

“I’m a fast learner,” Kíli replied quickly. “Especially when it comes to hands-on skills.”

“That is left to be seen.” The man stood and walked over to a trolley laden with bottles of alcohol, soda, juices, a tub of ice and some glasses. He wheeled this over to Kíli. “Make me a drink?”

Kíli blinked. “Pardon?”

“A drink. Anything you like.”

Kíli studied him for a moment before standing and examining the contents of the cart, grateful just this one time that he was familiar with the various types of liquor and how they tasted. Filling a shaker with ice, he added carefully measured amounts of vodka, orange juice and a dash of lime before tightening the lid on and giving it a thorough mixing.

Garnishing the poured drink with a tiny sprig of mint leaves, he set the glass down on a coaster in front of the blond man, who’d sat back down at his desk again.

Thranduil sipped it, and Kíli thought randomly that even this action looked refined. Seemingly satisfied with the taste, he took another longer sip and then put the glass down. “Not bad at all. You said you were only 19?”

“I didn’t drink underage, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Kíli said when he saw that smirk cross the tall man’s face again. “I don’t fancy alcohol very much.”

Thranduil simply inclined his head and took another sip of his drink. “Why do you want this job then? There are plenty of other entry level jobs out there where you could gain more useful experience, that offer better payment and regular working hours.”

Kíli sat back down, looking at his hands and trying to come up with a good answer, though he was failing miserably. He didn’t have a good reason for wanting the job, and the one reason he did have, he couldn’t say. So he raised his head and met the man’s cold eyes, his own brown ones unflinching.

“Family,” he answered, and the man smiled just that little bit more.

==========


	2. Firsts

**Firsts**

**Spring – April**

Club Greenwood was quite populated for a Wednesday night – a little bit unusual, but not entirely surprising for someone who had been running the place as floor manager for a couple of years now. 

The same beautiful people dressed to the nines, trying to be spotted by someone with the power and influence to give them their next big break; dancing flirtatiously while consuming copious amounts of alcohol to give them the courage to do things they wouldn’t normally do when sober.

That wasn’t what caught his attention however….

“Isn’t he a little young to be serving alcohol?” he asked his father who had come down to oversee the night’s operations and now stood beside him in a corner observing their newest employee.

“He’s 19, quite legal I assure you, Legolas.” He didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard over the music.

The younger blond glanced at his father, then over at the young man behind the bar. He was deft with his hands as he mixed drinks for patrons and was just as quick to serve them, offering a slight smile – that didn’t quite reach his eyes, Legolas noted – to those who bothered to thank him. 

He looked to be quite popular with the female clientele, most of who returned to the bar for a second and even third round of drinks. Legolas didn’t blame them. He was quite good looking, but he seemed to be uninterested in the phone numbers that were slid across the counter to him.

Intriguing.

Legolas felt his father’s gaze on him and tore his gaze away from the young bartender to look at him, noting the raised eyebrow and the incline of the older man’s face as if to say, ‘see?’

“Well, at least he’s not harassing the women like the last one we had.”

“I want you to befriend him.”

Legolas blinked and stared at his father, trying to make sure he had heard him correctly over the pounding music. “Why?”

“I got the impression he might be lonely, and possibly having some problems with his family.”

“And since when do you care about the personal lives of your employees?”

Thranduil sighed. “It is true I don’t care what they do outside this establishment in their own time. Their lives are their own. But this one, he intrigues me.” He glanced at his son who had looked in the direction of the bartender once more. “He intrigues you, too.”

Legolas gave a slight smirk. “Perhaps. But is that all he does for you?”

“He was not very forthcoming about his background, save for the fact that he repeated his final year of high school.”

“I knew it.” The younger blond looked back at the elder. “And yet you still hired him.”

Thranduil sighed again. “He may be more open to sharing his troubles with a friend rather than with his boss.” He ignored the last statement.

Legolas sighed this time. “So you just want me to get information from him.”

“You make me sound so cold. I simply need to know who my employees are without invading their privacy. I could have a background check run on him, but it would be quite underhanded of me, don’t you think?”

“And this isn’t?”

“Should he tell you, then he would be sharing it with you of his own free will. You may repeat to me what you choose to, I will trust to your word.” He placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I would like to help this lad if there truly is trouble at home for him.”

“I still question your true motives, but alright.” Legolas gave a resigned grunt. “At least he’s nice to look at.”

=====

Kíli let the cocktail shaker flip in mid-air a couple of times before catching it easily and uncapping it to pour the drink out into two glasses on the counter. The two young women – sisters, he figured – sitting across from him applauded and one dropped a $20 note into the jar of tips. He inclined his head in thanks and slid their drinks towards them, ignoring the way their eyes roamed over his face, hands and torso as he swiped a credit card to complete the transaction.

“Have a good evening, ladies.”

One of them slid a scrap of paper to him with a phone number scribbled on it, followed by the name of a nearby hotel and room number.

“You could make it a better evening for us if you could give us a call and come by here once your shift ends,” one said.

“That’s very kind of you, but-.”

“We’ll see you later, honey,” said the other.

They walked away with their drinks and Kíli sighed as he crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the nearby bin to join a slowly growing pile like it. When he looked back up, it was into a pair of pale blue eyes that looked back at him keenly. He glanced away and quickly began to wipe down the counter.

“What can I get for you?” he asked.

“A glass of white wine, please.”

Kíli set down a coaster and wine glass. “Any kind in particular?”

“Chardonnay will be fine.”

Kíli went about filling the glass, ignoring once more how the other man studied him and trying not to squirm under the gaze. It reminded him a little of the interview he’d had a couple of days ago.

“You’re Kíli, right?”

He startled and set the bottle down before looking up. “How do you know my name?”

“My apologies, I should have introduced myself to you first. My name is Legolas. I am the floor manager here.”

Kíli blinked. “Oh.” He slid the drink over. “Your wine, Sir.”

“Oh, no, please. ‘Legolas’ is just fine.” For some reason he simply did not like the sound of the formality coming from this young lad. “We’ll be working together a lot. I’d like us to be…” To be what, he wondered. ‘Friends’ was out of the question – they’d only just met. “Informal.” Maybe it was the way those dark eyes looked up at him.

Kíli shrugged. “You already know my name. Do you have a last name?”

“Just ‘Legolas’. Don’t really fancy last names.” He smiled at the way Kíli raised his eyebrows. “So how is your first night?”

Kíli wondered how he kept his blond hair so straight. “It’s nothing I wasn’t expecting.”

“You’re confident.”

“I have to be.”

“I like that.”

They looked at each other and a moment of silence stretched between them despite the clamour of voices and the sound of the music. Legolas broke his gaze first and glanced at the crumpled bits of paper and business cards lying in the bin.

“Didn’t fancy any of them?”

Kíli was in motion again, rearranging a few glasses and bottles. “I’m here to work, not pick up drunken patrons to take to bed. I’ve not reached that stage of desperation.”

The blond sipped his drink. “I’m glad to hear it.” And he was, for some strange reason, though Kíli would have been within his rights to sleep with whoever he wanted once he was done with work for the night, club patron or no. “If you do feel harassed at any time, please do inform me or security and I’ll have them taken care of.”

“Thank you.” Kíli offered him a more genuine half-smile than he had given any of his customers and it seemed to Legolas that his brown eyes twinkled a bit. “I will keep that in mind.”

Legolas smiled in return. “You will be safe here, Kíli. I promise you.”

Kíli simply gave a nod and turned to serve another patron.

=====

The early morning hours of a Sunday immediately following a busy Saturday night shift found Kíli doing the washing up. He yawned widely and then jumped when a voice sounded behind him.

“What happened to Ori?”

Kíli let out a breath and turned to face Legolas. “He got a phone call a couple of hours ago. His brother was arrested and needed someone to come bail him out.”

The taller blond shook his head. “They should leave him in that cell.”

“I take it that this isn’t the first time this has happened?”

“Unfortunately no, it is not.” Legolas stepped a little further into the small kitchen, used to prepare the few snacks and appetizers the bar offered. “And unfortunately Ori has not yet learned to say ‘no’, so Nori continues to use the lad as his safety net.” He sighed. “He should pray that Dori never finds out.”

Kíli didn’t pretend he knew who all these people were. He knew Ori from working with him the past couple of weeks and had learned he was a year younger than himself, and a bit of an artist, always sketching in a little book when he was not washing glasses or preparing food.

Legolas caught on to Kíli’s confusion. “I’m sorry. I should not have assumed you already knew about him.” He stopped beside the brunet and picked up a cloth to dry the already washed glasses.

“Should you be doing that?” Kíli asked. “I mean, you’re the manager.”

“And a good manager knows when to step in and help.” Legolas smiled gently. “It’s not trouble, and we’ll finish faster if there are two of us.”

Kíli nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Legolas spoke as he worked. “Ori’s parents died in an accident about a year ago.” He didn’t miss the younger man give a slight flinch. “They owned a clothing store, and fortunately, the oldest brother – Dori – was of age to take over the business. It was a lucky thing, or they would have been homeless. Dori couldn’t run the shop alone, but neither could he afford to hire employees, so young Ori dropped out of school to help him during the day.”

Kíli had paused in his washing and was staring at the water, but before Legolas could ask him if he was alright, he gave himself a little shake and resumed his work, asking, “What of the middle brother?”

Watching him carefully to make sure there was nothing amiss, Legolas continued. “Nori fell in with bad company. Most of his criminal activity that we know of has been limited to shoplifting and pickpocketing, but lately he’s taken to disappearing for longer periods of time, only to call Ori out of the blue and ask him to bail him out of jail.”

Kíli’s glass lingered under the water, but he remained quiet.

“Dori has threatened to disown him and keep him out of their lives if only to keep young Ori from following the same path, but Ori won’t allow it.” Legolas reached and gently took the glass from Kíli’s hands, their fingers accidentally brushing and sending a twinge of… something… up Legolas’ arm. “I don’t quite understand why.”

The gesture made Kíli look up at him. “He doesn’t want to break up the family any more than it already is.”

Legolas put down the clean glass and looked down at the shorter brunet, trying to discern what was going on behind those stormy brown eyes, and why he felt the need to get closer in friendship with him beyond what his father had requested.

“I believe you may be right,” he said.

“Families can be complicated,” Kíli said, and for a moment Legolas hoped that he might finally share something of his own. “Are you sure Ori won’t mind you telling me all this?”

Legolas should have been less disappointed than he felt at Kíli still being guarded around him, and still treating him as his workplace supervisor. “He doesn’t mind. He’s glad when he doesn’t have to retell it again himself.”

Kíli handed him one more glass. “That’s the last of them. Thank you.”

Then he smiled, and when it touched his eyes, Legolas found the expression infectious – to say nothing of attractive – and smiled back in turn.

“Glad to help. It is quite late though. Will you be alright getting home at this hour?”

“I’ll be fine. What about you?”

“My flat is just around the corner from here,” Legolas replied. He took a breath to say more, then let it trail off slowly.

What could he say? He’d only known the other for a couple of weeks – far too short a time for him to be offering him a place to stay for the night, especially with Kíli keeping him at arm’s length and refusing to have anything but a professional friendship with him, even if Legolas wished he could change that.

“Well I should be going.” Kíli dried his hands and removed the black apron he wore around his waist, hanging it up on the allotted peg.

“How will you get back?” Legolas asked.

“I’ve got a motorcycle out back. It’s a 20-minute ride back to my apartment.”

Legolas wanted to kick himself for not paying more attention to how Kíli commuted to and from work. “I’ll walk you out.” He led the way out of the kitchen and back into the club proper, heading to the back doors. “Do you live alone?” He almost cringed the moment the words left his mouth. Of course a lad Kíli’s age would be living alone just out of school.

“With my uncle,” Kíli replied with some finality.

They stepped out into the cold pre-dawn air and Legolas walked him over to a black motorcycle that had obviously seen better days. The older blond wondered how roadworthy the bike still was and if it was still safe to ride, but wisely chose not to voice his concerns to the younger brunet.

“Used to belong to a friend of my uncle,” Kíli said by way of explanation as he unlocked, coiled and stowed the chain he’d used to secure the bike to a nearby post. “He’s something of a biker. Rides hard.”

“I see,” Legolas replied and got no further.

Kíli removed the black dress shirt he wore as part of the club’s uniform, to reveal a simple black tank top that left his arms bare and clung to his body like a second skin. Unconsciously, Legolas licked his lips, then cleared his throat as Kíli pulled on a worn leather jacket and zipped it up before straddling the bike.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Legolas recalled that the club was indeed closed on Sundays and would thus not be seeing Kíli again till some time on Monday evening. He wasn’t sure quite why it bothered and disappointed him since this had been the norm for a couple of weeks now. Perhaps it was because this was the first time they’d managed to have a proper conversation, and also the first time Legolas was actually seeing him off. It still didn’t explain why his heart twisted a little inside.

“Yes, of course,” he replied instead. “Please have a good rest.”

Kíli offered a half-smile in response before pulling the helmet over his head and kicking the bike into gear. Legolas watched till he could no longer see him before turning to walk to his own apartment, the cold air forgotten as he wondered about his strange fascination with this quiet, secretive boy and what could have put such sadness in his eyes.

=====

**Spring – May**

Kíli wearily climbed the stairs to his third floor apartment after yet another late night covering for Ori, and quietly unlocked the door. So far, he had been lucky to find his uncle passed out on the couch, and had been able to slip into his room without waking him. He knew from past experience that his uncle wouldn’t even remember waiting up when he woke up the next day and would just assume Kíli had come in as per normal and gone to bed.

He didn’t even know why he did it. Even though he liked the younger boy, he was under no obligation to keep saying yes to Ori every time the lad needed to go rescue his brother; he didn’t have to keep taking these risks and potentially expose himself to his uncle’s temper. He kept telling himself that it really wasn’t that late, especially when he had Legolas to help him quickly finish up the extra work.

He told himself it was all professional and maybe some of it was, but he did wonder why Legolas always readily stepped in to help whenever he stayed back late, and do something as menial as washing glasses and plates. He noted that the blond never really did the same for Ori (though with Ori there, there was no reason to stay late).

Still, it wasn’t unpleasant company – Legolas would tell stories sometimes that would make him smile – and having him there meant an extra pair of hands that made the work go a lot faster. Neither was he all that unpleasant on the eyes, and Kíli would catch himself staring at the older man more than once, hoping for a glimpse of the friendly blue eyes that would grow a little brighter when they met his own brown ones.

No, alone time with Legolas was not a problem.

“You’re late.”

His uncle being awake, however, definitely was. 

Kíli sighed and shut the door behind him, ignoring the ever-present smell of alcohol that hung over the living room like a cloud. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

“It’s four o’clock in the bloody morning! Of course I’m going to stay awake when my nephew doesn’t come home when he’s supposed to!”

 _You couldn’t stay awake all those times before_ Kíli wanted to say, but didn’t. “I was safe.”

“You could have been lying dead in some rat-infested alley for all I knew.”

“But I’m not, am I? I’m here.” Kíli scowled. “I’m 19 years old, Uncle, I’m not-.”

“You _are_ a child!” The older man slammed his glass down on the table in front of the couch, causing some of the liquid inside to spill over the rim. “You know nothing of the world. There are people in it who wouldn’t think twice about violating you before slitting your throat.”

“I was working!” Kíli set his helmet down and pulled off his boots. “It’s not like I was walking the streets waiting to be picked up by some dirty old man.”

“I don’t care!” The man rose to loom over his smaller nephew. “This will not happen again, do I make myself clear?!”

Kíli stood his ground, but would not meet his uncle’s eyes.

Said uncle frowned suspiciously. “Are you telling me this is not the first time you’ve come home at this hour?”

“I work in a club! This is going to happen again whether you like it or not! It’s part of my job!” Kíli burst out.

“Then do not make me regret giving you the permission to do it. This stops, Kíli.”

“No, you have to stop!” the younger retorted. “Stop trying to control my life when you can barely control yours!”

His uncle growled. “You hold your tongue.”

“I will not. Look at you. Can you see yourself? Every time I come home, I see you at some stage of drunkenness. You want to talk about control? Control your alcohol before trying to control my life!”

“You will show some respect!” The older man scowled and took a step towards his nephew. “Until you turn 21, I am your uncle and lawful guardian…”

“But you are not my father so stop trying to be like one!”

Kíli’s mouth snapped shut as his eyes widened and he stared at his uncle who took a step back as his expression changed from anger to hurt and disappointment.

“Thorin… Uncle, I…”

“Go to bed.”

“But-.”

“NOW, Kíli. Get some rest and I will hear no more on the matter.”

Bowing his head, Kíli frowned and moved past his uncle to his room, and as he shut the door he heard the sound of the couch creaking and glass clinking as the older man poured himself another drink. Kíli knew he’d probably drink himself to sleep like always.

Fighting back tears that stung his eyes, he undressed and collapsed on his bed.

He was too deeply asleep to notice when, just before sunrise, his uncle came into his room and draped the blanket over his shoulders, placing a soft kiss to his hair before he retired to his own room.

==========

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for anyone wondering where Fili is in all this, don't worry. I haven't forgotten about him. It's just not his time... yet. As always, comments are most welcome.  
> Self-betaed so if there are any typos, please let me know so I can fix them.


	3. In Exchange

**In Exchange**

Summer – June

“I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult for you,” Ori said one slow evening, his head bowed as he stood behind Kíli at the bar, having nothing to do in the kitchens as yet.

Kíli stirred a drink quietly. It had been some time since he and his uncle had spoken properly. Twice more he’d been caught coming home in the pre-dawn hours, and arguments had ensued with Thorin threatening to lock him out of the flat if he came home late one more time. 

He made good on the threat the following night when Kíli stayed back to once more cover for Ori, sliding the dead-bolt into place so Kíli could not open the front door even with his key. Kíli had then shouted and threatened to scale the walls (where he could walk along the narrow ledge that ringed each floor of the block) and creep in through his bedroom window.

Thorin only opened the door then because he knew Kíli was fool-headed enough to actually try it.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he replied as he placed the finished drink on a tray holding others and the customer returned to claim them. “I’m glad to help.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Ori said. “I live – on and off – with a liar and I can see it in people’s faces when they lie to me. I can see it in your face that you’re lying, and that it does cause you a lot of trouble.”

Kíli sighed and tried to change the topic. “No more trouble than your brother causes you. Why don’t you leave him in that cell to rot?”

“Because if I don’t look out for him, who will?” Ori shifted on his feet. “If I don’t bail him out, he’ll call someone else. He’ll owe that someone else a debt, and I don’t want to think of what they might make him do to pay that debt back.”

“Has he paid your debt back?”

The younger lad shook his head slowly. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m just glad to have him alive. He and Dori… they’re all the family I have left. I don’t want to lose anymore.”

Kíli forced a smile. “There, see? That’s why I don’t mind helping you.”

Ori smiled back. “I’m trying to talk to Nori, to make him stop so that I won’t have to keep asking you to cover for me.”

“It’s alright, Ori.” Kíli’s gaze wandered over to where Legolas was standing, between the bar and the DJ, chatting with a couple of patrons. “I don’t mind it so much, and it doesn’t really take that long.”

Ori followed Kíli’s gaze and hid a smirk that Kíli didn’t see.

They stood in companionable silence for a while, listening to the music that was playing, Kíli trying to stop himself from staring too hard at the blond, dressed today in a powder blue shirt that brought out his eyes, and soft dove-grey pants. He almost startled when another customer approached the bar with orders for several drinks and some snacks, and quickly got to work mixing, while Ori disappeared back to the kitchen to serve up the food.

When he looked back up to place the last drink on the tray, Legolas was standing to his left, head tilted and smiling that little smile that made Kíli’s throat tighten slightly every time it was directed at him. Thankfully, before Kíli had to force himself to talk, Ori came back out with the food order and the customer moved away. Legolas’ gaze shifted to the younger of the two.

“Ori, could you please make Bofur his sandwiches for the night,” he asked. Ori nodded and returned to the kitchen. “Kíli, he requested a lime and cola to drink. Could I trouble you to bring them to him? I’ve got some guests to entertain in the VIP lounge.”

“Of course.” Kíli’s forced his face to remain a mask. Legolas was the manager. It was his job to mingle with guests and keep them entertained so they would bring their business back to the club.

“Thank you both.” With a glint of blond hair, he was back amongst the patrons, making his way to the far end of the club.

Mentally scolding himself for reading into things that weren’t there, Kíli mixed the requested drink and poured it out as Ori emerged a few moments later with neatly made chicken-mayo sandwiches on a little plate, covered with a damp cloth. He glanced in the direction Legolas had gone.

“You shouldn’t worry about him.”

Kíli blinked, then snatched up the plate and glass. “I’m not worried.” He stepped from behind the counter. “Help me watch the bar, I won’t be long.” And if his path happened to let him glimpse into the VIP lounge, well… there was nothing in the rules that forbade a passing glance.

=====

The DJ’s console was on a slightly elevated platform situated across from the bar and separated by the dancefloor which, even on a slow night, was still packed with people. It was the shortest way from the bar to the console since going around meant either weaving in between the seating areas on the left or intruding on the cordoned off VIP area on the right. 

Kíli attempted to navigate this crush of writhing bodies without dropping the food or spilling the drink while trying not to stare through the thin chiffon curtain that offered some privacy to the higher-paying guests, hoping to catch a quick glimpse of the floor manager. He thought he saw the glint of blond hair mingling with dark brown like his own, but dismissed it as a trick of the light and focused instead on reaching his destination.

He tried to be annoyed at Legolas, whose job it usually was to look after their resident DJ. Kíli had never met the man till now, but his music was popular with the patrons who kept the dance-floor packed, even on slow days, and thus ensured business at the bar since dancing was, well, thirsty work. Even so, he cursed as he was jostled before finally managing to reach the other side.

“Thank ye kindly, lad,” the DJ – Bofur, if Kíli had heard the name right – reached down to take the plate and glass from him. “I’m much obliged and sorry for the trouble. I know Legolas usually does this, but seems he’s a little busy tonight.”

Kíli wondered how he managed to keep the funny hat balanced on his head as he moved to set the items down on a small table beside him. “You’re welcome. It's nice to finally meet you.” He glanced towards the curtain. “Who are they?”

“Just the daughter of Hidden Valley Medical Center’s founder, and her brothers. Old friends of his, and quite generous with their spending.”

“Oh.” Kíli wasn’t sure how to respond to that and shifted uneasily on his feet.

Bofur studied the slight slump of his shoulders and the way the younger man looked away as if resigned to some particular fate. “Your name’s Kíli, isn’t it? Legolas mentioned you a fair bit.”

The dark head came up. “Has he?” Kíli raised his eyebrows.

Bofur nodded, partly to himself, and partly to Kíli’s question. “Oh aye.” He took a sip of the drink and bite of a sandwich. “Seems ye’re good for business and have a talent with the drinks. The last guy wasn’t nearly as good-lookin’, and was far less a gentleman.” He turned away to change the music. “I think ye’ll bring a good energy to this place.”

“I thank you for your faith in me.” Kíli’s expression was unreadable as he spun on his heel. “I should be getting back to the bar.”

The DJ tilted his head at Kíli’s reaction, but let him go. “Of course. Don’t mean to keep ya from your job.”

The trip back to the bar was easier now that he had his hands free, though his head was filled with muddled thoughts about the blond and where exactly he stood with him. Were they friends? Just working colleagues? Was there something else? Kíli sometimes thought he felt something resonate from Legolas, but dismissed it as reading too much into it, though he couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t him resonating something towards the older man instead…. And then there was Bofur’s information…

“Please let me go.”

Kíli’s head snapped up from his musings as he reached the other end of the dance-floor closer to the bar and saw Ori staring up at the much larger man who loomed over the bar counter and him. As he drew closer he saw the man’s hand closed around Ori’s thin wrist, and the younger boy looked noticeably uncomfortable.

“What’s this?” he asked.

Ori shot him a distressed glance. “He asked for a glass of water. I’m sorry, I know it’s not my job to handle the drinks, but it was just water so I thought…” Sure enough, there was a glass of water on the counter near them.

“It’s alright, Ori, you did nothing wrong.” Kíli turned to face the man. “Let him go.”

The man leered at him as he got a good look at Kíli. “Well aren’t you a pretty thing.” 

The breath that reached his nostrils reeked of too much cheap alcohol and almost made him gag. Kíli glowered. “I said, let him go.”

“Or you’ll do what?” The man gave a guttural laugh. “Pretty thing like you is probably only good for one thing.” The leer widened, exposing badly kept teeth, even as his grip tightened around the smaller wrist and Ori gave a squeak of pain.

Kíli reacted, throwing himself at the man to push him off. Startled by his sudden movement, the man released Ori and stumbled back a step before grabbing Kíli’s upper arm with a large bony hand. Kíli struggled and the grip tightened enough to bruise.

“Ori, go back inside the kitchen,” he ordered.

“But…” Ori made to argue.

“Kitchen. Now.” Kíli glanced around as Ori fled, but the strobe lights and the music made it hard to get anyone’s attention for help. He glared back at his captor.

The man smirked. “You’re prettier than him anyway. You’ll do.” He started to drag the brunet to a darker area of the club, closer to the back doors.

Kíli dug his heels in, putting up as much resistance as he could against the bigger man. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, I don’t think you have a choice, boy. I’m a paying customer; I can take whatever I want, especially a pretty young thing like you.” He took hold of Kíli’s other arm in much the same manner and hauled him to the doors.

Kíli wondered if a kick to the crotch would earn him a broken arm, and decided he would prefer that over what would possibly happen if the man got him outside the club.

“Is this man bothering you, young one?” a light voice asked, and Kíli looked up past the man’s shoulder to see the familiar red hair of the tall female bouncer. “Tauriel, at your service.”

The man turned his head and frowned at her. “Leave us, woman. This is not your concern. We were just stepping out to have some fun, weren’t we, pretty one?”

Kíli didn’t answer and Tauriel shook her head. “I won’t ask twice.” She glanced down at Kíli’s leg and gave a slight nod. Kíli got the hint.

He missed the crotch, but still managed to get in a decent kick to the man’s thigh that startled him enough into letting go. As soon as Kíli was free, Tauriel grabbed the man’s arms and wrenched them up behind his back, her own grip like iron and belying her lithe, slender frame.

“Now come quietly or I will break both your arms.” The ice in her voice promised she would make this happen if he did not comply.

“I am a guest here!” the man shouted. No one else in the club gave any indication they had heard him over the music.

Save one. “Fortunately, you are one guest we would rather not have return.” Legolas approached them, eyes cold as he looked the man over. “Tauriel, please remove him from the premises.”

“Gladly.” She hauled him to the same doors he had been trying to drag Kíli to, proceeding to throw him out and ensure he did not come back in.

Kíli made his way back to the bar where Ori had come out again. Legolas joined them a moment later and studied them both, eyes searching for any signs of injury.

“Are either of you hurt? Did he do anything uncivil?” he asked.

“My wrist is a tad sore, but I’ll be fine,” Ori said, then smiled at the brunet. “Kíli showed up just in time. Thank you, my friend.”

Kíli gave him a hint of a smile. “It was nothing.”

Legolas’ glance lingered on the bartender, noting the mostly expressionless face, but seeing the dark eyes slowly ease their blaze. “Take the rest of the night off, Ori,” he said. “Both of you. Go home and take some time to recover. I’ll finish here and close the club for tomorrow.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The words were out of Kíli’s mouth before he could stop them. Both Ori and Legolas looked at him. “There’s no need to close, and I’ll finish tonight.” He glanced at Ori. “But he’s right; you should go home, Ori. You’ve had a bad scare.”

“I’ll ask Tauriel to escort you home,” Legolas said as the red-head approached and smiled at the youngest. “If you wouldn’t mind, Tauriel?”

“Not at all,” she replied and held out her arm to Ori who blushed scarlet and took it. “Come, Master Ori. Let’s get you back safely.”

Once they were gone, Kíli filled a glass with water and drained it swiftly before turning back around to attend to a customer who approached hesitantly and placed her order. The brunet offered as assuring a smile as he could and quickly made her drink, nodding thanks when she dropped a tip in the jar and left. Legolas watched him closely through all this.

“Kíli…”

“I’m fine.”

“Kíli, stop.”

The brunet turned to glare at him. “There’s no harm done. Please leave it.”

“I saw him grab you.”

Kíli only shrugged.

“And I heard what he said to you.”

“And you think this hasn’t happened before?! You think I haven’t heard all of it before?! Men trying to be funny because I look the way I do? That was high school. I’ve learned to cope. I’m not going to crumble to pieces because of one drunk and dirty old man.” Kíli frowned.

Legolas blinked looking horrified, and Kíli couldn’t help but wonder why. “You’re just 19.”

“Don’t pity me.”

“You shouldn’t be…”

“I can do my job.” His features hardened to shield the sadness in his eyes. “And you don’t have to pretend to be friends with me so that I’ll stay on. I know me being… pretty… helps the business here at the bar, and I’m okay with that. That’s probably why I was hired anyway.”

The blond’s eyes widened incredulously. “Who…”

“Legolas?”

Kíli looked up and tried not to stare at the beautiful dark-haired woman across the counter from him.

“Lady Arwen,” Legolas replied. “How may I help?”

She gave Kíli a small smile before looking at the blond. “I was hoping I could get that bottle of champagne you mentioned? My brothers are insisting we try it.”

“Of course.” Legolas stepped around Kíli to retrieve the bottle from the cooler while the younger man readied four tall glasses on a tray, leaving room for the bottle that Legolas set down on it.

The woman – Arwen – smiled and picked up the tray before Legolas could. “I can manage.” She walked back to the concealed area with a grace Kíli could only dream of having.

Legolas glanced down. “Kíli…”

“You should entertain your clients.”

He sighed and moved to follow Arwen, but Kíli caught the whispered “I wasn’t pretending,” as he left.

=====

Later, once the club had closed, Legolas watched from the back doors as Kíli changed from his shirt to his jacket for the ride home. The streetlight showed bruises in the shape of fingers already forming on the brunet’s upper arms that made Legolas’ stomach twist uncomfortably.

Kíli had refused to speak about the matter anymore; the only words they exchanged being work formalities. It saddened Legolas, who wanted nothing more than to hug this poor lad and keep him safe from the ugliness of the world.

_Don’t pity me_

The words echoed in his head and made him cringe as he realized that was exactly what he had been doing. He watched as Kíli rode off, then glanced back as Tauriel joined him at the doors, back from safely delivering Ori home.

“Someone who spends his days trying to be strong will never appreciate anyone trying to make him appear weak.”

Legolas glanced at her. “And you know this because?”

“I’m a woman with a pretty face. People look at me and they only want one thing. Kíli may not be a woman, but he’s no different.” She looked at him. “The world outside Greenwood is not a very nice place. You and your father are different because you both have a sense of honor, but out there… what do you think that man would have done to Kíli had he made it out the door?”

Legolas frowned. “I’m not naïve, Tauriel.”

She looked down the now-empty street. “No, but it doesn’t change the fact that there were probably others like him in Kíli’s life. Even if they were not out to rob his innocence, his face would have probably gotten him lots of offers – model, salesman, escort.” She sighed when Legolas stiffened. “You cannot wrap him in cotton, nor should you try to, if you want him to keep working here.”

“I’d never use him like that. He’s not here because he has a nice face!”

“Then why is he here?”

“He intrigued my father.” The blond groaned. “Alright so I can see how Kíli would think that.”

She nodded. “Are you truly his friend, Legolas?”

“I would like to be.”

“And why is that? Because he has a pretty face?”

“Because he deserves a friend.”

“Then be a friend, not his knight in armour. He does not need a saviour, nor does he need your charity. He needs someone who can look past that and just let him be who he is.” 

“Don’t you think I’m trying to do that?”

“Perhaps not hard enough.” Tauriel smirked. “You should learn from the kitchen lad.”

=====

**Summer – July**

“Excuse me, Kíli, I’m sorry to interrupt…”

Kíli gave a small smile and looked up from where he’d been laying out glasses for the night’s shift that would start in a couple of hours. “Yes Ori?”

“That is… I wanted to say… regarding what you did for me last month…” The younger lad shifted on his feet before placing a small package on the counter. “Here.”

Kíli looked down at the brown paper package tied together with simple white string and tilted his head, looking back to Ori in some confusion.

“Just something to say thanks you,” Ori said quickly. “You can open it.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Kíli undid the string and carefully unwrapped the brown paper to reveal a pair of soft, sturdy black woolen gloves that he picked up and examined. Then he looked at Ori again.

“You shouldn’t have, they must have been expensive.”

Ori looked sheepish and stared at the ground, pink coloring his cheeks. “Actually they didn’t cost a thing.”

Kíli’s eyes widened. “Did you knit these?!” A nod. “That’s incredible!” He tried them on and found them to be as comfortable as he’d imagined them to be.

“I know you ride a bike; I know you have a helmet and jacket, but I’ve never seen you wear gloves. I thought these might help protect your hands. They’re not leather ones, but they’ll keep out the cold a little bit.”

The next moment, Ori found himself wrapped up in a warm hug that he returned happily.

“Thank you,” Kíli murmured, before letting go and stepping back. “It was very thoughtful of you.” He tucked the new gloves away under the counter so as not to spill anything on them.

“Well, you helped me with that awful man. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

The brunet thought back to the dark bruises that had marred his arms for about a week. How his uncle had come into his room every night to apply a soothing balm to the marks when he thought Kíli had been asleep, and how at last Kíli revealed one night that he was awake. They had talked till the sun rose before Kíli finally fell asleep again.

“It was nothing that could not be mended,” he replied truthfully.

“That’s good.” Ori smiled and then added. “I’m sorry for the trouble though.”

Kíli smiled back. “Oh hush. You didn’t ask to be harassed. Don’t blame yourself.” He studied the younger lad. “Though… if you’re going to help me at the bar next time, you ought to know how to make a few of the simpler drinks.”

Ori’s eyes widened and he squeaked. “Me?! But that’s your job. I wouldn’t know… I don’t think I’d even be allowed to touch the alcohol!”

“Why not? You’re legal enough, and you’ve proved to be a decent cook. Besides, what if I’m taken ill and can’t come in to work. They need to have some sort of backup, why not you?”

The lad’s voice softened. “No one’s given me a chance before.”

Kíli’s voice softened, too. “I’m giving you a chance now. C’mon.” He grabbed some sheets of paper and a pen and passed them to Ori. “Take notes, these are simple, basic cocktail recipes even a child could make.”

Blinking hard in bewilderment, Ori took the writing materials and started jotting down notes and little tips that Kíli shared with him, watching closely as Kíli made a small glass of something non-alcoholic (seeing as how they couldn’t really drink on the job) and passed it to him to try.

“Won’t you get in trouble for this?” Ori asked.

Kíli shrugged. “They have too much of it, and if I don’t use it, they’ll just throw it out anyway. Don’t worry.”

“Well, it’s very good.” Ori set the glass down. “Did you have to learn to become a bartender?”

The brunet paused as he rinsed out the shaker at the small bar sink. “No. I’m just out of high school. My uncle… he… he keeps a small bar at home. Sometimes he’d ask me to make him a drink, so I’d experiment. Other times I’d just watch what he did. I guess I taught myself.”

Ori picked up on Kíli’s slight discomfort and let the subject of his family drop. “You’re very good at it.”

Kíli glanced over and smiled a little bit at him. “I’m glad you think so.”

=====

Legolas pretended he couldn’t hear the conversation going on behind the bar as he pretended to be reading some of the log books and making notes regarding stock updates and other little things in the club that needed seeing to.

Kíli barely spoke to him since that night. Nothing outside of work-related issues like needing supplies of ice when he was running low, or letting him know when certain mixers were reaching their Best Before dates so they could run a promotion and clear as much of the stock as possible. It was all very Manager-Employee and Legolas hated it.

He hated the formality of it; the coldness. He hated that he couldn’t talk to Kíli like he used to, and shameful as it was, he hated that Nori hadn’t gotten himself caught again so he could attempt to actually talk to the younger man while they worked overtime. Most of all he hated agreeing to this stupid plan of his father’s in the first place, because now he genuinely wanted to be friends with Kíli… if nothing more.

“Kills ye, doesn’t it?”

Legolas looked up as Bofur took a seat across from him. “What does?”

“The fact that it’s Ori who can make him smile an’ not ye.”

The blond frowned. “He’s allowed to have friends.”

“And yet he doesn’t consider you one. Must hurt.”

Legolas closed a book a little harder than he should have. “Did you just come here to gloat?”

Bofur held up his hands. “Relax, lad. I know it’s tough. It’s easier for him with Ori ‘cause they’re co-workers. You’re technically still his boss and that’s still playin’ on his mind.”

“It doesn’t seem to bother you.”

“Well I’ve known ye longer.”

“And what would your advice be, since people are so keen to give me theirs?”

The DJ grinned. “For starters, don’t be so uptight. Ye make him nervous. Let him know he can relax around ye. Second, you’re his friend, not his mother. Y’don’t have to be there to help him cross the road or clean his nose.”

“You spend too much time with Tauriel.”

“She’s a nice lady.” Bofur chuckled. “Finally, if ye got the balls for it, just buy him a drink and ask him t’dance. Gotta be hard for him, cooped up behind that li’l counter all night long.”

Legolas wondered if their resident DJ had truly gone insane.

=====

“Did you two have a fight?”

The club was open and in full swing and Kíli looked over as Ori brought in a batch of newly washed glasses and helped Kíli stack them. “What?”

“You and Legolas. I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but… I noticed you haven’t really been talking.”

“We’re fine.” Kíli blinked. “We talk.”

“Work stuff, sure. I’ve heard that. But you don’t talk like you used to. You barely smile at each other… ever since that night.”

Kíli sighed. “It’s nothing.”

Ori’s shoulders slumped a bit. “I like working here ‘cause everyone is friendly, and kind to each other. It’s not like that at home y’know. Usually it’s just me and Dori and we don’t really see each other because our schedules are different. But then Nori comes home sometimes and it turns into this whole Cold War scenario where they just exchange small talk even though there are so many issues they need to talk about. And it hurts because I love them both and yet they can’t stand each other.”

The boy’s hands curled into fists on the counter. “Please don’t do that here.”

“I’m sorry, Ori.” Kíli placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know it upset you that much.”

“Why would you not talk? Weren’t you friends?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘friends’, no. He’s still my boss.”

“He’s everyone’s boss, but not by choice. And it must get lonely, knowing everyone only talks to you or listens to you because you’re in a superior position to them and not because you’re friends.”

Kíli looked at where Legolas was standing some ways off, leaning against a pillar and watching the dancefloor, but not really seeing anything. He wondered what the blond was thinking of.

“He seemed to have a lot of friends visiting.”

Ori actually scoffed. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were if you think he considers them his friends. He’s nice to them because they help business, but you already knew that.”

“I think I liked it better when you were still shy to talk to me,” Kíli quipped, earning himself a smack on the arm.

“You were nice to me. It’s easy to be friends with someone who’s nice to you.”

Kíli sighed. “I just don’t like being fussed over or made to feel helpless.”

“I’m sure that’s not what he intends to do, but you know he IS responsible for us and what happens to us. It’s his job to take care of us while we work, and if anything happens, he has to shoulder the blame.”

The brunet mulled this over. “Never thought of it like that…. Thank you, Ori.”

“So you’ll talk to him?”

“I’ll try.”

Ori picked up a tray of dirty glasses for washing. “You know he gets hit on a lot, too.”

“I get it, Ori, I said I’ll try. Now shoo!” Kíli smiled as he sent the younger boy off.

He turned back to the bar counter in time to catch Legolas looking at him. Remembering what Ori had said about his brothers, Kíli sighed again and gave the blond a small smile. He saw Legolas’ face light up, and the shy smile he got in return could have rivaled the sun with its brightness, and warmed a part of his heart he didn’t know had turned cold.

Maybe all would be okay again after this.

=====

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my Chapter 2 got a bit too long, and in order to avoid delaying the posting anymore, I've decided to just split it and post the first half of the chapter as one whole chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be working on another chapter of "Of Sugar and Spice" when this bunny bit, dragged me aboard this ship and then wouldn't let go. This is going to be a bit of a long journey, that with your encouragement I hope I won't give up on because I would dearly like to see this through to the end.
> 
> Things are going to be a little scattered at the start until the characters settle in a bit more and figure out what direction they want to go in. I only have the barest hints of plans for them, and these are changing every day; and while the main gist of the story focuses on Legolas and Kili, what happens to the supporting characters will certainly have an impact on them and their relationship as well.


End file.
